Garter
by Leila Winters
Summary: AU. Weddings are supposed to be happy occasions. Witness common traditions in untraditional ways. You won't think of weddings the same! Slightly different POV's. alt.pairing Snippets.
1. Garter: Hajime

**_Author's Note: _**If you're reading this, I hope you have a sense of humor. There's been lots of talk about weddings and garters and garter removal methods lately...so this sprung a little bit from that.

**_Dedicated: _**To my friend, Amanda, who recently "celebrated" the wedding of her father. Party hardy. I'm sure he didn't do it at all like this, honey...lol.

* * *

Garter by Leila Winters  
Brought to you by Quentin Tarantino's _Kill Bill: Volume 2_.

Weddings are very festive occasions. Bouquets on every table in elaborate displays of greenery, baby's breath and bursting lilies. Perhaps if one looked close enough, they'd notice the expensive silk ribbons and...is that just a hint of azalea among the bright cluster of flowers? Yes...yes, perhaps it is.

One thing is certain: weddings are for women. Looking at the frivolities involved...flowers, flowers everywhere and not a single petal for any practical use...expensive tapestries and cloths, sashes, candles sitting upon hand-crafted doilies...

:::snort:::

Women are so idiotic.

Mmm...looks like Shinomori is in for it. The crowd swoops like vultures on the man who looks all-too comfortable in his black tux and long black overcoat.

He eyes the crowd warily beneath his girly-soft bangs, but suddenly there are people there, too, and the Woman laughs her deranged chortle.

"Oh ho ho ho!"

Shinomori has no idea he's marrying a social parasite. Serves him right.

The spiky-haired groomsman with a red bandana to match his red cummerbund reaches out and seizes Cool and Composed by an arm.

"Oh no you don't! You're not getting out of this one, Creepy!"

Pale eyes narrow dangerously at the touch. Yes...he doesn't like that very much, now does he?

The redheaded groomsman quickly snatches up the other arm, smiling kindly as the Early Snow whirls to stare with wide eyes, his black coat whipping through the air with him.

"Shinomori-san, it would be a shame to miss out on tradition...after all, a first wedding is once in a lifetime."

Hmph. He is suspicious of having his arms restrained behind him. As he should be.

The bride is dressed in delicate white, flowing and lacey and sitting upon her throne of dark cherry wood in all her finery. The top half of her hair is done up in a series of ridiculous twists and braids and curls...rather elaborate for only a single night of display. The bottom half of her hair hangs down from the intricate knot with supple curls and waves...and that shine. Mmm. Shinomori married her hair. Lucky bastard.

Poor man struggles as the people place handcuffs on his wrists, his brows furled darkly, his body jerking at the bands.

The bride smiles gleefully at his discomfort, her red, red lips brightly painted and curving sensually against her smooth skin. Yes, perhaps he even married her for those curves, too. _Those_, too.

:::chuckle:::

The bratty ring bearer scratches his head in exasperation, embarrassment outlining his features at seeing such an intimidating figure being un-manned before his bride. Upset that Shinomori doesn't get to keep his dignity, kid? Yeah, I'm sure he feels the same.

An older man with gray hair and tears streaming down his cheeks steps up to him.

"Aoshi...I do this for your sake."

The groom manages a final glare before the old man places a black blindfold over Shinomori's eyes and secures it. The crowd pushes the defenseless man around until he stumbles to his knees before his bride. The faces laugh good-naturedly, but the beauty in white quiets them with a hand that she holds mildly up in the air, her hands soft and nails elegantly stained a muted peach.

Shinomori tips his head slightly to the side, sensing the presence of his maiden. Yes, how adept you are at your abilities, Morning Frost.

The bride leans forward and runs her hands over the shoulder and back of the exquisitely tailored black overcoat her groom dons so well. She takes pleasure from the firmness beneath her fingertips and the way he stops struggling against the cuffs at her touch.

Savor it, Shinomori.

She leans closer and at the same time tips his head up. Before their lips touch, he breathes reverently into the space between their lips, unable to see her face but imagining the look of her red, red curves.

"Meg..."

Mmm...a kiss even on-lookers can feel, so soft, so full, a giving over of oneself to something bigger. Indeed.

When they part, the crowd hoots like a pack of drunken dogs. People come forward to push the already kneeling groom into his bride's lap.

His will is breaking...hahaha...serves him right.

The crowd chants in a feverish chorus and at last his will crumbles to ash and sand. His head moves experimentally on the smooth texture of the bride's skirt before traveling down the length of it. The crowd coos and jeers when he pauses to get his bearing, already having lost track of where the garment ends.

"Help the guy out already!" yells the impulsive groomsman.

Clearly enjoying the power given over to her, the bride smiles widely, then curls her lower lip into a pout before lifting the hem of her dress over the head of her groom.

Hmph. Play with your kitten, Shinomori. Demand vindication!

The groom appears slightly disoriented beneath the veil of ivory and milky-smooth legs. He reasserts himself amidst the whooping of the crowd and nuzzles her calf. His lips must be running along her natural warmth, stopping to land kisses on her satin skin.

The bride is purring in satisfaction. The groom is playing her game now, and powerless before her...but wait. Is that a blush upon the velvet cheeks of the fair maiden as the groom moves farther up, following the line of one noteworthy leg? Yes. Yes, watch as the faint pink darkens with what must be your mouth against her inner thigh, Shinomori. Surely, you are imagining that perfect skin before your lips.

Yes. This is the proper punishment for your stolen manhood.

Her long, curved lashes blink in rapid succession against the fantastic darkness of her eyes. Her fingers are twitching for you...so close to grabbing your head and maybe punish you some more. And wouldn't you just love that?

Beneath the pale cloth, the groom shifts suddenly. He has it! With deliberate slowness, he slides down her leg once again and emerges from the frothing cream of shifting silk, over the dainty foot of his bride, toenails trim and stained with that wholly feminine peach color.

Proudly, he bares his teeth, sitting full upright on his knees, white lace garter between his feral jaws.

The crowd cheers triumphantly and the bride looks misty-eyed at her warrior. She reaches for his blindfold and pulls it free, the garter forgotten and fallen, the blue of his eyes so sharp in the sudden exposure. The groomsmen rush forward to uncuff him while they share a soft, sweet kiss.

Enjoy it early on, my friend. Kisses do not last.

The bride and groom prepare to leave the festivities behind. The bride turns and smiles mischievously at the eager faces in the crowd.

"Just so you know..." she says, "I've decided not to throw my bouquet. I've hidden it somewhere in this room and whoever finds it...well..."

She laughs that squawking bird laugh as her groom pulls her by the hand out the large doors. The women scramble through the reception area, desperately searching for superstitious luck to befall on them.

Outside, the groom is pulling on black leather cut-off gloves while his bride is unzipping her elegant dress and slipping out of it.

His pale eyes slide to me and he turns to extend a hand. Firm handshake, I'd expect no less from you. You smile your slow, confident grin.

"Thanks for being my best man."

"Anytime, Shinomori."

Your bride is waiting for you in her short white slip, looking ready for bed, beautiful and so soft, her legs completely exposed to the breeze. She's stuffed her dress in a compartment for sidekicks on that shiny black Harley you bought last year.

You nod and join her to help her place the helmet over her lacquered hair, you smile at the way you know she's admiring you behind the reflective visor, you in your stiff tuxedo and overcoat. You secure your own helmet and wait for your bride to slide behind you, her legs brushing yours, her hands clutching at your torso.

You rev the engine with your bad boy hands and allow your sleekly polished shoes to lift off the ground and glide the motorcycle onto the road. What any normal person would do to get their hands on that smooth cat.

I take a long drag of my cigarette and toss the nub into the street. Best man. Of course I am.

* * *

**_End Note: _**Lol...I hope y'all liked. I don't think Saitou is a voyeur or anything...he's just really observant. Also I like that it's written from a perspective that doesn't romanticize weddings...nay, he almost makes them appear a bit...different. :D

Also...the cuffs, blindfold, garter and motorcycle are all part of my ideal image of a wedding reception. LOL!

Wrote this instead of my 9 page problem/solution paper on obesity...lol. Consequently, Amanda was writing a story about rape at the same time. We briefly pondered combining stories...but the idea of Saitou as best man getting called into a back room of the church and being compromised didn't seem to fly so well...lol!

Cherry Delight, if you ever read this, I swear, I'm working on _Mibu Saints_!!

**_Disclaimer:_** RK is not mine. Quentin Tarantino totally gave me the idea of giving somebody the identity of "The Bride." Thankies! Also...that line about "giving over to something bigger..." I think that might be from the play I did last month _("99 Histories_")_._ If it is, I'm sorry Julia Cho! This ain't for profit so you got no worries...


	2. Kiss: Megumi

**_Author's Note:_** I didn't mean to write more of this…it just happened…ideas got into my head…

* * *

Kiss by Leila Winters

Okay. Okay. Okay. So the lilies are a little off-center. That's okay. I'm sure no one's looking…but if one _were _to look…well, then it's certain to be noticed.

Aoshi…what are you doing? NO! Why are you even showing your old man the flower display? He's smart! He watches! He'll know about the lilies! I bet he already knows about them at this moment! Oh god…

…but…he's just sniffling. He admires the artistic design and then turns to his son, eyes wet. He grasps Aoshi by the forearms of his gorgeous black overcoat and weeps into his son's shoulder.

Oh god…disaster. Why did I have to make the father cry?

They've turned around and are _staring _at me! I've got no way to hide, stupid white dress only makes my embarrassment all the more clear to spectators. The old man is nodding and you nod in mild agreement.

Holy fuck, what are they getting all chummy about? I pretend to be busy arranging my skirts. I can't stand this…isn't it time to go? Why can't we leave now? Aoshi, hurry the hell up…

Silverware is clinking against the dishware…_silverware is clinking against the dishware_…oh no…no no no…NO!

"Hyeah! Go for it!"

"Whoo!"

Shut the hell up. Just shut. up. Oh god…he's walking this way!

—Flash!—Flash!—

He smiles and waves to the crowd as they snap single-framed photos of his slow tread to his bride. To me. The clamor of silver against ceramic and glass reaches its zenith as Aoshi is standing in front of me, smug in that long overcoat/tux combination, but damn, if he doesn't look deliciously sexy in it.

He's standing over me…I can't…I can't, Aoshi, don't.

The people are relentless. Bang, bang, clink clink clink. Arrg. Shut up for just a second.

There's so much flashing and the faces…oh, Aoshi, how can you stand to see them all leering so? They want…they expect so much of us…

You smile that disarming smile…goddammit…you are _hot_. Do you have any idea how good-looking you are, because DAMN.

Your face is coming closer to mine…oh god…I thought you didn't like public displays of affection…then why?

I can feel my lips shrinking in on themselves, so tight. I can't breathe…someone help me…I can't do this.

My eyes have zeroed in on those lips that insist on coming ever closer. It's just inches now…but…

NO! I turn my head gracefully to the side and your warm lips plant firmly on my cheek. The cameras flare in a dizzying white glare while the crowd boos and moans in utter disappointment. Sickos.

You pull away and it's eye contact. I'm sorry…I'm so sorry.

But my mouth doesn't move.

Your brows knit. You hold my hand so gently…taking mine in your reassuring grip.

"It's okay, honey."

Omigod…I think I love you…no. I know I love you. You're the reason why I would marry you and only you…

Gah! What am I thinking? It's your fault that I'm thinking these horribly sappy and _SO_ unlike-me thoughts! I hate you! You turned me into some kind of pining idiot! Curse you, Aoshi Shinomori!

…you're still looking down at me with those sharp, worried eyes. How quickly those eyes can change their tune.

You give my hand a squeeze and kiss my forehead.

"Hey, honey, it's going to be all right."

Goddammit…

Tears prick my eyes, that burning moistness that I so hate…why are you so fucking sweet to me? Blink them away…

I'm so evil! Why are you marrying me? I said I hated you on our _wedding _day! I should be shot and put in a small cage so that people can watch while my life-blood leaves my body…

I think I'm going to cry…

But you know what I'm thinking and smile again, hugging me close.

"I love you, hon."

I'm so stupid…

My lips are moving and I say into his ear, "I'm scared…"

"I know…"

Mmm…he feels so good. He leads me by the hand to our table and the food is so good…everything is so good…with warm wine in my belly, I feel so much better. Your shoulder is ten times more comfortable, the faces ten times less daunting with each glass.

Hey…you're not having any, no fair. A bride can't very well drink alone, now can she? Oh, you will…you'll have the customary glass of champagne you're entitled to. You said you didn't want to take my garter off in front of all these people…but you're going to. I have it all planned out…

Ho ho ho…

What is with me today…? I look at Aoshi sitting beside me, dumb with liquor (me, not him). He smiles back.

"You shouldn't have let me drink so much," I say.

"You're a grown woman," he says back, as if that explains everything.

The clinking starts again. First, only one or two glasses, but it builds as the tables join in until it is a deafening roar around us.

You rise from your seat and pull me up with you. You're still confident and crack that maddening smirk that brings girls to your knees.

"Ready?" you ask, managing to be heard over the din.

Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink!

So ready, it hurts, baby.

The crowd loves it and I love it—right on the lips, baby, I could do this all evening.

Kissey kissey kissey…

Hang on…first kiss was crowd appropriate, nice and chaste. Why are we kissing for a second time? You're so affectionate, this never happens, I don't understand. Did you sneak a drink when I wasn't looking?

(…)

Doesn't taste like it.

(…)

No wonder I married you. Goddamn!

* * *

**_End Note:_** Totally different style and I don't mean just POV. Actually inspired by me being the one who rings the china the loudest at receptions and ONE TIME a bride denied a groom her lips and turned her head at the last moment. It was an arranged marriage…lol…doom…

Oh yeah. DRINKING IS BAD!

_**Influences: **Love Medicine_ by Louise Erdrich. Her masterful manipulation of time is something to behold. _Outlaw Bible of American Poetry_ with a poem called "_I'm an Emotional Idiot_" by Maggie Estep.

(05-28-04)


	3. Ceremony: Aoshi

**Author's Notes:** Holy crap, I cannot believe I wrote this back in '04. Time goes way too fast. Happy reading and thanks for all the wonderful reviews!

* * *

**Ceremony** by Leila Winters 

He was waiting. The crowd was growing nervous. There was a low murmur that traveled through the stained benches that made the guests restless.

His best man leaned in close, yellow eyes surveying the confusion.

"Where is your bride?"

"…"

He watched as a jittery bridesmaid flitted along the outskirts of the guests and came to whisper in his ear before the assembly.

"You better come see her."

At once, he marched down the aisle, the little bridesmaid trailing after him fretfully. From a distance, he could hear shouting. Frantic voices behind closed doors.

"_Let us help you!"_

"_Stay away from me! WHERE'S MY HUSBAND? SOMEONE GET MY HUSBAND!"_

"_He won't BE your husband if you don't get out there!"_

"_NOT UNTIL I SEE HIM FIRST!"_

He opened the door to see his bride in tears and her bridesmaids fussing.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked.

His bride, frazzled ball of fluff that she was, stamped her dainty foot with fearsome force.

"I have to pee!"

He was sure to keep a straight face. "Uh…huh…"

She was on the verge again, voice quivering. "I have to pee and there isn't enough time to get me out of this dress and back in again. My skirt is going to get wet if I try to hike it up!"

One of the women interjected, "She won't let us help her to the bathroom. She demanded to see you right away."

He recalled a show that specialized in moments like these. Bridosaurus-Rex? Bride Kong? Grizzly Bride? Bridarilla? It would come to him in a moment.

"Can't you hold it?"

That stopped her. "Hold it? _Are you mad? _This is my wedding we're talking about! I am not going to do the pee dance at the altar! GO TO HELL!"

Another woman flitted in, "We said we'd hold her skirts for her, but she wouldn't let us."

He grasped his bride-to-be by the forearm and led her to the adjoining bathroom.

"Come, honey. We can't have you spoiling your makeup."

She stifled a sob and followed his lead.

* * *

Gathering her skirts was quite the chore, but when he had convinced her that he had a firm enough hold on her precious dress folds, she commenced usage of the commode with no further argument. He thought she would protest her groom seeing her in white before the wedding, or at the least, protest seeing her in such an undignified manner over the toilet. 

On the contrary, she requested it.

"Only my husband will suffer me in this state since we're liable to see each other much worse than this after we're married."

When she was finished, he helped her arrange her skirts while she washed her hands. He stepped back to admire his handy work and instead found his bride's reflection in the mirror utterly irresistible. He was sure he'd never seen a woman so beautiful in his life.

He stepped behind her, pressing against the floof of skirt at her hip, hands going to her waist.

She stilled and turned at his insistent caress. He used a hand to shut the water off.

They kissed.

And their arms flew about one another in mad abandon.

* * *

They tried knocking, but when that failed a response, they opened the door to hurry them along. 

And found the bride crowded against the sink with her skirts bunched up about her waist, arms around her groom, whose lips were locked passionately to hers.

* * *

They set themselves apart, feeling a bit chagrined. He wiped his lips and patted her bottom as they left the restroom. 

"Don't think you and your dress are safe from me yet."

His bride merely smiled wickedly, content once more.

* * *

Immediately following the ceremony, congratulations were offered and some mingling among guests took place. Drinks and appetizers were served. Light music gently filled the rear soundscape. The sound of laughter and conversation and children mixed harmoniously together. The bride and groom were noticeably absent for a time. 

But…not sorely missed.

* * *

**End Notes: **yeaahh…written spur-of-the-moment. But a bridal bathroom fiasco WAS planned in my original notes for this nontraditional fic. Haha. There is at least one more chapter I MUST write before putting this baby to rest. (unless I think of other wacky things to involve these folks in). 

Believe it or not, I think I'll throw wonderful tantrums on my nuptials. I don't think it has anything to do with being a feminist or not, being subservient or not, reinforcing gender codes or not. It is the third most important day of your life – the ordering going accordingly (to me): birth, children, wedding, death. (If you're lucky, your fourth is attaining your lifelong goal-parenthetical-s) Yes, yes, not everyone has children, but if you were, you had best count that as one of the most important days of your life. (And in importance, precede that of your joining with your significant other) And of course not everyone gets married but again, should it happen, it should probably be counted as an important marker of your life. (And if things don't go right on that day...I think you've a right to play spoiled brat at least a little.)

(commence ending of preachage!)

(2-08-06)


End file.
